Title: United
Author:
monitorscreenFandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Rating: G
Word count: 1431
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is the creation of Konomi Takeshi, not mine.
Summary: It was not easy being too brilliant too soon.
Author's notes: Fic #4 for
fic_on_demand's
Fic a Day June Challenge. Request:
High school freshman year by
misanagi.
United
by monitor screen
Despite vowing to stay together, the third-years on the Seigaku team got scattered in the end. Oishi's parents wanted him to go to another high school; Kikumaru could not study the subject combination he wanted in Seishun Gakuen; Inui entered an exchange programme and went to Spain for the year. Although Kawamura was still around, he did not sign up for the Tennis Club, as he had promised his father to devote more time to sushi making.
All that was left of their legendary team were Tezuka and Fuji.
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It did not start out as anything obvious. A stray comment here, a malicious joke there. They had passed these off as random; it was not like they had not encounter such things before - there were always people who liked to taunt instead of working to improve themselves.
They got to do a lot of clean-up duty, but then, all first-years did. They were worked very hard, but again, it was for the tennis. Their senpais were not especially harsh to them, though not favourable in the least.
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Fuji first got clued in that it was personal when he heard two seniors laughed at something about glasses on the sideline. It could not have been pointed at anyone other than Tezuka, because he happened to be the only player with spectacles on the courts. It was then that he realised the mocking was about more than tennis.
Tezuka did not seem to notice anything, though, so Fuji kept his quiet when they collected the balls together after practice.
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Tezuka was angry.
It was one thing for the seniors to resent him for defeating them; it was totally another matter for them to resent Fuji for smiling. What was wrong with a smile, anyway? Fuji was playing seriously, for heaven's sake. What did it matter if he smiled or not?
At least Fuji's opponent was a junior. Tezuka suspected it would have been more than thirty laps if Fuji had won against a senior.
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They could not do anything he did not expect. Hiding his tennis bag was lame. Fuji was sure he could have done much better if their places were reversed. Provided that he would be inclined to play such low tricks, of course.
It took more effort, but he managed to win with the skewed racket in the end. He was a little disappointed at not seeing Tezuka around; though he supposed it was wise to keep some distance from the senpai's indignation.
Tezuka approached him as he was starting on the clean-up, with dusty shirt and dirty hands. He held out Fuji's tennis bag without a word.
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"This is unfair," Fuji said as he handed Tezuka the water bottle.
Tezuka nodded his thanks, "The ranking matches are lined up this way."
"And that is unfair," Fuji reiterated. "You should not be playing three matches in a row."
"The line-up says I should." Tezuka picked up his racket, and went to Court B.
He knew he was not playing his best. It had not exactly been difficult to secure victory in the previous matches, but they were taxing nonetheless. His opponent smirked, "Tired so soon, Tezuka-kun? Is that the stamina level of the National Champion team?"
He lobbed a drop shot in reply. The senpai did not reach it in time.
When Tezuka left the court, winning 6-4, practice was about to end. He and Fuji had the clean-up duty, once again. Fuji smiled at him, "You go get the nets down, I'll collect the balls." And ran off before he could object.
It was not right to not share the work equally. Though Tezuka did send a silent thank you to Fuji's crouching figure at the far end of the court.
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It was times like this when Fuji missed Yamato buchou. He might have been eccentric and perplexing, but he would never have stood for bullying, let alone participating himself.
Yoshii buchou was not doing anything questionable, to be sure. Just having Tezuka-kun running around with laps and drills and practice matches and heavy chores. Fuji could tell he was trying to wear Tezuka down. The sad thing was, it was working. Tezuka never complained, of course, but he was moving around more sluggishly than usual when not in practice lately. The difference was barely perceptible; Fuji was simply observant.
It was not in his nature to stand out, especially when there were unfavourable consequences in doing so. Nevertheless Fuji asked Yoshii buchou for a match, courteous and smiling, and mowed him to the ground. Buchou assigned him to stay after and clean the courts with Tezuka-kun. Fuji smiled and thanked Buchou for the instructive match.
Tezuka is too stubborn, Fuji mused as he got the brooms out, to ask for help.
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Tezuka did not like daydreaming, but sometimes he wished the old team were here with them. Even Kikumaru and Inui. It was disheartening to watch Fuji being shunned by the other first-years for fear of incurring the seniors' spite.
Unlike himself, Fuji had always been a people person. He enjoyed blending into the crowd and getting friendly with others. From experience Tezuka knew Fuji was not one to mind pretending to be lesser. That he was only standing up against the senpais because he did not want Tezuka to be singled out. Fuji was too kind, trying to help him; it was not necessary.
It was uncharacteristic of him to think so, yet Tezuka was starting to want Fuji to not play so seriously, not now when he got punished for winning. The other boy would be happier if he was more yielding like he used to be.
Tezuka had to stay after for clean-up again. He could see Fuji lingering around to help. He approached Fuji, "I will be fine by myself. You don't have to stay."
"But, Tezuka..."
"You are not on the roster today." He patted Fuji on the arm, "Go on and get changed, it's getting late."
Fuji bit his lip, but said nothing and headed for the club room.
Tezuka was sweeping the courts when the group of first-years came out, talking about going to the ice-cream parlour. He spied Fuji amount them, smiling.
He hoped they would have fun.
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Fuji smiled sweetly as he shook hands with his senpai. He could tell the older boy was furious, as expected after Fuji had spent the whole match riling him up. Good, he should get landed with cleaning duty.
It was bothersome, having to make sure he was ordered to stay after practice instead of just remaining behind. But Tezuka had gained a habit of pushing him away if he did not actually have to stay late. Stupid, stubborn Tezuka.
Fuji got to run laps first. The usual twenty, since Yoshii buchou was having a hard time coming up with reasons to justify more. When he finished, he found that his water bottle and towel were gone. So that is their revenge. How uncreative.
Tezuka handed him his own bottle as they passed each other by the bench. Later, when they were done for the day, Fuji found his towel folded and bottle filled by his bag. He smiled at Tezuka as they exited the club room.
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Tezuka did not understand why Fuji insisted on going out of his way to piss the senpais off. Would it not alienate him further from the other first-year club members?
He caught Fuji's arm as he changed courts in a yet another practice match he asked a senpai for, "You do not have to do this."
"Maa," Fuji pouted a little, "But I like walking home with you."
It was so disjointed it took Tezuka a while to process the whole of Fuji's logic, by then Fuji was already serving. "You still do not have to do that," Tezuka muttered under his breath, and went back to his drills.
In the end Fuji got off with fifty laps. He stayed after to help Tezuka clean up the courts regardless, and Tezuka did not stop him, despite having heard the other first-years talking about going to the fast food joint.
They left the school ground together.
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It was not easy, being too brilliant too soon, without some protective authority or supportive friends. They had each other, though, and they managed, even learning to enjoy their shared moments, the unspoken kinship, along the way.
There was always the future to look forward to. And next year, it would be better - they had no doubt of that.
Comments and critiques welcomed.